ST95 ... summer of love 67

some visions last a life time weaving in and out of turmoil like a stone

I just turned nineteen. The love of my life embraced me. I was young, foolish and i was in the summer of love. How was i to know it would remain ‘my summer of love’ for the rest of my life and the ‘summer of love’, probably for the lifetime of mankind.

shades of time across a long summer

After the fifties and all the fake new instant foods, dreams of outer space, a suburban house filled with convenience, cottage on a lake, a new car straight into the civil rights, Vietnam, assassinations, rock and roll, bob dylan, the beatles… marijuana, rebellion, but LSD was the trigger. It tore thru the minds of youth with colours and scenes, thoughts and dreams, separated the indoctrinated ego from the magic and mystery of the universe. Love was in the air. It really was. Mankind took a giant step towards unification. Native Americans opened up their ceremonies, blacks joined whites in the parks, bands; fields were glowing in the scent of endless strawberries and natural harmony was everywhere, ready to take you down, ‘where nothing is real, and nothing to get hung about’

It all can sound trite, foolish, superficial..but it wasn't.

After the Beatles came out with ‘All You Need is Love’, skeptical Dylan writes a couple of years later in an interlude upon the Skyline of Nashville, 'Love is all there is, it makes the world go round, love and only love, it can't be denied, no matter what you think about it, you just won't be able to do without it, take a tip from one whom has tried'. This love was not the common love, it is the glue that holds the universe as one.

Magic was in the air. We were about to transform the world. Love was spreading into the crevices of the mind of humanity. We were smothering the hearts of everyone everywhere with that soft insight of compassion…… cept for the minds of the rich, the super rich, the masters of war, the individuals wanting more for more…. they were threatened, their worlds were being dismantled, rearranged, destroyed by a new softer world being imagined in the minds of a restless youth reaching for the stars, eternal light, the love that is the essence in the very heart of it all.

They, the ‘they’ killed the momentum, with force, infiltration with informants, devious tactics to crush this 'foolish love'. 

I rose and fell in love and i would never recover. My story runs parallel with history. I bled, she bled, the world bled.

I have been walking on the edge, thru the streets of hell, past the gates of heaven, i've seen it all, your white eyes, your velvet dress. I can't get you out of my mind, you're there forever yet dead.

travellin thru the 70’s into the 80’s

The new people play in the fields close to the summer in love. They have their hair hanging long, their cool clothes flowing in the winds. They have the magic wrapped around their necks but they don't have the times when space was groovin, soothin hearts with freedom coiled in love. They are on their own, little pockets of hip ventures hidden within the streets and plains of mediocrity. The ‘summer of love’ still moves between the hard walls of mad progress. These few dispersed across the globe know, feel the truth of love in the earth, the cosmos, the hearts of life and radiate that light thru the darkness of this world. Ultimately, they will win, maybe in another life time, another world, and maybe somewhere in an alternate earth….. it has already won.

a young friend-free Shanoie of the ‘new people’ 2024

The 'powers to be' know they can't let another movement like the sixties take hold. They watch closely thru their sick eyes. Real love is what they fear. They think they love control, power, and lots of money…..but they don’t, they are not aware, they are sick, they need healing. Possibly some sacred intervention will sweep this world into balance…. who knows, it is all mystery.

Love is many things in the eyes of humanity. I know of no one whom has held love pure from beginning to end. All have had discomfort, tragedy, breakups, reuniting… love is a gift of life but impossible to hold in its purity through the turbulence of our thinking minds. Thought itself is in opposition to its sacredness. Love is all there is, love is truth, eternal, sacred, pure and beyond the adventures of the possessive mind. We get a glimpse in our most sacred moments, some visions last a life time weaving in and out of the turmoil like a stone.

It isn't difficult to see that not much is pure love in this world, most all tainted with desires of loves enemies, possessions, ego investments, sacred strategies, even the mother with her undying warmth sometimes hates. Love is simple, too simple for the complex brain, minds fuelled with abstract tools to develop more for more. Love is too pure for the heart that breaks, jealous situations, envious temptations too dear to avoid. Love strays tainted in minds constantly on the prowl for something better.

Love is a gift, it is natural for man to hold its feathers and fly thru life touching its golden wings with an ecstatic frenzy but time in its nature can twist and tear it apart, for time is our mind, the myth, the illusion of our being, our nature. Love can only flash before us but time fragments its continuity like a clock, ticking, ticking away from the sacred.

I have loved, love has shone its beauty upon my soul. I have given all. I have fallen astray. I have seen its dimensionless cure. I have been in its arms for moments that lasted a life time.. but it died inside, somewhere, hid from me, cursed me at times, laughed, tangled me in turmoil, then kissed my heart again.

love is light, love is life

Of Interest:
The image above with the blue painting of me back in 1967 was painted by one of my best friends, Don Tucker. He failed to accept the changes thru the 70’s and 80’s and decided to end himself at forty. He was troubled and an amazing person and could have been a great artist if… Life is what it is. I think of him often. Don also sketched this one of a young Bob Dylan which i always loved. He gifted it too me before he left.

‘love is just a four letter word’ bDylan

Love is many things to many people. Possibly it is the string in the string theory, the essence of dark matter, the spirit of the mystery, the light of life, but whatever it is, we feel it, animals act on it, it seems to make the world go around, and thought has nothing to do with it.

Note:
I appreciate your readership! I do. This is my way of entrapping thoughts as they sail thru the open sky, wrestling with the winds reality. If you are amused/inspired reading these weyward words and would love to support my work, buy me a coffee or a paid subscription. Pass it on to someone whom you believe might appreciate this work.
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Hang Me Up…. Images

WeyWord Times / Writing and Images by Patrick Wey